Newsie Queen
by Madison Barton-Maximoff
Summary: Sting was Queen of Brooklyn up until the moment she left. Now she's in Manhattan. What happens when the strike happens and she's their only way into Brooklyn. Will her and Spot get back together or will the secret she's been hiding be too much for them?
1. Chapter 1

Newsie Queen

 **I do not own Newsies in any way. I only own my OC's.**

 **A/N - It has been forever since I've written Newsies fanfiction. I hope that I've grown as a writer, because I've looked back at some of the stories I've written and they weren't my best, so I hope this one will be much better than what I've written in the past.**

* * *

Queenie, or Sting (the original nickname given to her by the former leader of Brooklyn, Chief), sat on the roof of the Newsboys Lodging House located in Lower Manhattan. She looked out across the city. She could see the Brooklyn Bridge in the distance.

It was close to 5 a.m., about the time he would be waking up and getting ready. Was he looking across the river pining for her as well? High atop his throne missing his Queen?

She'd been in Manhattan for close to a month now. Sting had met a handful of the Manhattan newsies at weekly poker nights, but it had still taken some getting used to. Manhattan didn't exactly have a leader and they were more laid back compared to the other boroughs. Sting decided to stop throwing herself a pity party and went back into the bunkroom, grabbing her hat. Her eyes lingered on the key necklace sitting on the nightstand she shared with Race.

"Queenie? Whatcha doin' up so eoily?" Race asked her, rubbing his eyes.

"Go back ta sleep", she whispered, trying not wake Blink and Snipeshooter.

Racetrack was the only one allowed to call her Queenie, seeing as she had given up that nickname the moment she left Brooklyn.

She went downstairs and nodded to Kloppman before making her way out onto the streets. Sting could sense someone following her all the way to the distribution center. "Youse can stop followin' me, Shootah. I'se know ya dere", she said.

The little boy came out from behind a cart.

"Youse can't keep comin' heah Shootah", she told him.

"But I miss youse", he said.

Sting's heart melted for him. "Youse bettah get back ta Brooklyn befoa yer bruddah realizes yer gone", she told him.

"Oh! Dis is foa you", he said, pulling a couple of coins out of his pocket.

"Oh honey, I'se can't take yer pape money", she said.

"It…it ain't mine", he told her.

Sting's eyes went wide.

"Said it should last youse da week", he said.

There was roughly a dollar in her hand. "He doesn't need ta care of me", she told him. As a girl, she made almost twice as much as what the other boys made. Usually she had to spin a story about how she was saving up enough money, so she and her 'beau' could run away and get married.

It's not like it was a complete lie up until a month ago.

Shooter hugged her and ran off towards Brooklyn.

Sting glared at the money in her hand. She wasn't helpless and he knew that.

Soon enough, the Manhattan newsies came running towards the square.

Sting pocketed the money as Jack walked up to her.

"Mornin' Sting", he said.

"Cowboy", she said, nodding at him.

Race threw his arm around her shoulders.

The other boys just stared at her. She knew they were afraid of her because of her association with Brooklyn.

The Delancey Brothers walked up to the group of newsies.

Sting didn't really have a problem with them, but Oscar was always trying to hit on her.

"Deah me, what is dat unpleasant aroma? I'se feah da sewers may 'ave backed up durin' da night", Racetrack said. Trust Race to come up a wise-crack. Sting knew it was the main reason Race and Spot got along so well. They could go on for hours with their witty banter.

"Nah, too rotten ta be da sewer", Boots added. Sting was fond of the little African American newsie. He spent a month in Brooklyn shortly after Sting and Spot had started dating. Sting always had a special place in her heart for the younger boys. Spot always said she was 'Mother to all younger newsies', so they tended to look up to her in that way.

"Yeah, it must be da Delancey bruddahs!" Crutchy finished, causing the newsies to laugh.

"Hiya boys!" Racetrack greeted.

Oscar's eyes fell on Sting. "Well, well, well. Good mornin', Queenie", he said.

The newsies went silent. No one was allowed to call her that except Racetrack and everyone knew that.

Sting narrowed her eyes at Oscar.

"When ya get tired of this riff-raff, I'll make an honest woman outta ya", he told her.

Sting gave him a smirk that could rival the King of Brooklyn's himself and said, "I'se an honest woman awlready, Oscah. I'se wouldn't marry youse if ya were da last man on eoith".

The newsies around her laughed as Oscar glared at her. He grabbed the back of Snipeshooter's neck and threw him to the ground saying, "In the back, ya lousy little shrimp".

"It's not good ta do dat, not healthy", Racetrack said as Sting helped the younger boy up. He smiled at her and she smacked his hat down playfully with her hand.

"Youse shouldn't be callin' people lousy little shrimps, Oscah. Unless yer referin' ta da family resemblance in yer bruddah heah", Jack said, coming to stand next to Sting and his second.

"Hey, hey, five-to-one da cowboy skunks 'em! C'mon who's bettin'?" Racetrack yelled.

Sting rolled her eyes at her friend. Always looking to make a quick buck so he could use it to bet on the horses down at Sheepshead.

"Nah, bum odds!" all the newsies yelled back.

Jack pushed his second back and said, "Dat's right. It's an insult. So's dis!" He grabbed Morris' bowler hat and took off running.

Yep. Manhattan was nothing like Brooklyn.


	2. Chapter 2

Newsie Queen

 **A/N - I'm excited for the next chapter because the strike begins and that means Spot!**

* * *

Jack and the Delancey brothers eventually circled back and Jack climbed the gate as the other newsies cheered him on.

Sting rolled her eyes at the idiotic display. Spot would never start a fight just to start one. While, yes, he was one of the most intimidating newsies out there, he only fought when necessary.

The gate opened and Jack jumped down.

The newsies filled in to get their papes.

"Brilliant performance, Jackie, brilliant!" Racetrack praised, "Bettah dan yesterday's!"

"Yer too kind ta me Race, yer too kind", Jack replied.

"Remember my offah, will ya?" Oscar said, walking past Sting.

Jack rung the bell at the counter.

"All right, all right! Hold yer horses. I'm comin'!" Wiesel yelled.

After antagonizing Mr. Wiesel like every morning, Jack slammed his money onto the counter. "The usual", he said.

"Hundred papes ta da wise guy", Wiesel said.

Sting walked up to the counter. She always got her papes after Jack. "150", she said, putting her money on the counter.

"150 for the Queen", Wiesel said.

Sting grabbed her papes and set off to her selling spot in Central Park.

"Sting's in a mood taday", Jack said as he looked through the headlines.

"Ain't she always?" Race asked.

"Yeah, but I'se mean moa dan normal".

Racetrack sighed. "I'se don't tink she's been sleepin' too well", Race said, "She was up at 3 dis mornin'".

"Has she tawked ta 'im?" Jack asked. Racetrack shrugged.

"Look at dis, 'Baby Born Wid Two Heads'. Must be from Brooklyn", he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Both of them would never forget that night. They could still hear her screaming.

* * *

Sting had only sold half her papes by lunchtime. She grabbed her remaining papes and headed to Tibby's.

The restaurant went silent when she walked in.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed a booth in the back by herself. The stares of the other newsies made her uncomfortable. Her hand on instinct went to her neck, only for her to remember that she no longer wore the necklace.

"Hey", she heard. Sting looked up and saw Blink standing there.

"How's sellin' goin'?' he asked her.

She slammed her papes onto the table, drawing a few looks.

"Dat bad, huh?" he said. He sat down across from her.

A waiter came over to them and Blink ordered his food.

"Ya want anytin'?" he asked her.

Sting pulled out the money she had made so far and counted it in her head. She wouldn't be able to afford lunch, let alone dinner even with the money Spot had given her. She finally shook her head.

"I'se buyin'", Blink added.

Sting was craving some fish and chips, but mostly because she was homesick for Brooklyn. Antonio's had the best fish and chips in New York since Brooklyn had the biggest harbor. "Why are youse bein' so nice ta me?" she asked him, softly.

For a second, Blink was shocked that she actually had a voice. Almost none of the Manhattan newsies had heard her speak. "Well, ya look like youse could use a friend", he said, "Youse seem moa sad dan usual".

Her eyes narrowed at him. "I'se don't need yer pity", she hissed.

"I'se not", he said, "Youse just seem a liddle bit lonely".

She pointed to fish and chips on the menu and the waiter walked away. Their food arrived and the two ate in silence. When she was done, Sting grabbed her papes. "Tank youse by da way, Blink", she said.

"Anytime Sting", he said.

* * *

That night, when she got back to the Lodging House, Tumbler ran up to her. The rest of her selling day had gone much better after lunch and the kindness Blink had shown her.

"Miss Sting, would you tell us a story?" he asked.

She looked past him and saw all the younger newsies, including Boots and Snipeshooter. She nodded and sat down on the couch in the living area.

Tumbler crawled up on her lap.

"Um…once upon a time there were two friends, a boy and a girl, who lived in a faraway kingdom. They were best friends until the little boy was chosen to be the prince…" When she finished her story, most of the little ones were asleep.

Jack and Race walked in the door and smiled.

The three of them gently woke them up.

"C'mon, ya guys. Off ta bed wid youse", Jack told them.

Sting stood up, Tumbler asleep in her arms.

Jack moved to take Tumbler from her.

"No!" she said quickly backing away from Jack. "I'se mean…I'se got 'im", she told them. Sting carried Tumbler up the stairs and put him in his bunk below Skittery. She covered him up and kissed his forehead, before getting ready for bed.

"Youse okay?" Racetrack asked her.

"I'se fine, Race. Really", she told him before crawling into her bunk. She closed her eyes and dreamt of a boy with blue eyes and what would never be.


End file.
